


I Would Remember

by fififolle



Category: The Eagle | The Eagle of the Ninth (2011)
Genre: Amnesia, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Smut, Trope Bingo Round 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-07-26
Updated: 2013-07-26
Packaged: 2017-12-21 11:01:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/899523
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fififolle/pseuds/fififolle
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Marcus' injury leaves him with entirely the wrong idea, Esca finds.<br/>I wrote this for DW trope_bingo - prompt: amnesia.</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Would Remember

~

Esca can still hear the crack of bone against tree as clear as the water that he just drew from the well.

And there was blood. So much blood. Esca wasn't especially worried about that. Everyone bleeds when they cut their head, even Romans. Particularly Romans, he reflects, though he did not feel triumphant as he had bound Marcus' head tightly before dragging him back to the house.

It was just typical. They travel to the end of the earth, or feels like, survive rogues and storms and snow, and seal people, to recover the eagle of the Ninth earning great acclaim from Rome herself. And then one day in the Spring, Marcus falls off his horse a hundred yards from home.

In his master's defence, Esca had never seen a snake so close to the house before. Neither had his master's horse. And Esca finds it hard not to think of Marcus as his master. He has no other reference point, but one thing is clear – he is not leaving. Certainly not now.

If there had been no tree, Marcus would have been well at this moment, possibly sitting with Esca in the garden and drinking water or perhaps a little wine.

Esca stills his hands from where they were wetting the cloth. He looks over at Marcus, and shivers. Marcus lies still on the bed, and Esca wonders if he will ever wake.

He is about to allow himself a moment of despair, when Marcus opens his eyes, and blinks, before shifting onto his side, and coughing.

Esca is by his bed in a moment, pressing the cloth to Marcus' neck, and making a shushing sound to calm him, such as he does to the horses when they are giving birth.

“Marcus. Look at me. You are at home, with me, Esca.” The rest of the household have gone down to the town for the games. They are alone.

Marcus appears disoriented for quite a long time. He sits up, with Esca's help, and drinks a little water from the cup Esca holds. Marcus stares at Esca all the while.

Esca's heart is bursting with relief at the recovery of his master. He lets himself smile at the rosy pink in Marcus' cheeks, the like of which he thought he might never see again.

“Esca,” Marcus says slowly, rolling the word around in his mouth, his voice still scratchy and deep.

“Yes?” replies Esca eagerly, holding Marcus' hand, though he does not know it.

“You are Esca?” Marcus finally says, as if he did not know him at all.

Esca's world collapses like a burst pig bladder ball.

“And I am Marcus?” Marcus goes on, his face calm and open.

Esca gathers his thoughts and rolls them up inside the burst ball. “Yes. You are Marcus. Marcus Flavius Aquila,” he says quietly. “Do you feel well, Marcus?”

Marcus frowns, and moves his free arm slowly, lifting his hand to the back of his head and rubbing gently. “My head. What happened?”

“You fell and hit your head. You have been asleep for six days.” Six days and nearly to noon again. Not that Esca is counting.

Marcus looks impressed at his own effort. Esca nearly laughs at the insanity of it all. Then Marcus expression turns puzzled.

“And you? Esca...” He pauses on the name again, his eyes mapping every contour of Esca's face. “You are my...?” There is a small smile on Marcus' lips, one that Esca has only seen a few times before, and it makes his heart ache.

“I am Esca Mac Cunoval, freedman and Briton in the same breath.”

“And I live here, with you?”

Esca has heard of men losing their minds before. It is as if the injury robs them of what they once were. Marcus seems quite well, though. He has to believe that Marcus' infliction is temporary.

“You do. And with your uncle and his household.”

Marcus laughs, and when he reaches out and takes hold of Esca's thigh, Esca gasps, stunned.

“I think I remember!” Marcus grins, pulling Esca closer. “We are lovers.” He says this in a low voice, sultry and full of glee.

Esca shakes his head, but he can barely focus while Marcus holds him so intimately. “No. We've never,” he stutters.

Marcus looks puzzled, but he does not let go. “But we must be.”

Esca's face is hot, and he cannot pretend that he has not thought about it, but it is not the way amongst his people. Romans are different. He has seen them, down a dark alley, heard them in the baths. Roman men like to fuck each other, suck each other's cocks.

“I... know you,” Marcus continues, still confused, his fingers stroking Esca's thigh absently.

Esca swallows. “We are close.”

He cannot add that they are like brothers, because they were never like brothers. He hated Marcus, for a long time. Then he came to respect him. And now... Now he loves him so much it hurts.

But they have never crossed that line. Esca sees now that they only stared at each other across it, again and again.

Marcus lets go and shuffles himself so he is sitting on the bed with his feet dangling down. Esca, his skin burning where Marcus touched him, hovers, worried Marcus will fall.

Marcus throws his arms around Esca and pulls him close between his legs. Esca is shocked, but he lets it happen. He wants Marcus to keep touching him. Marcus' hand is on his _buttock_. Esca can barely breathe.

“Esca...” Marcus purrs. “My Esca. Do you think I would not remember you?”

Esca has no words. He shakes his head mutely.

Marcus frowns, and looks away, staring at the wall for a moment. “You are the only thing I remember, for now. But no doubt I will recover my thoughts in time.” He looks up at Esca, and smiles, and Esca's heart skips a beat. “How long have we been lovers?”

Esca wants to shout and hit things, in frustration. But Marcus still holds him close and it is distracting. “We are not lovers, Marcus. I told you. You are delirious.”

Marcus merely presses a kiss to Esca's stomach, and Esca stifles a gasp. “You tease me, Esca. That is no way to treat an invalid.” Marcus kisses his way up Esca's body, until he is standing strong. He leans down and presses his lips to Esca's, and Esca melts into it without thought.

“I would remember, if we had ever kissed like that,” Esca says quietly, and he can feel himself trembling in Marcus' arms. “For I have not hit my head, and I am in good health.”

Marcus' hands seem to be everywhere, and he kisses Esca's neck. “Would you remember this?”

Esca has forgotten how to breathe. “I know I would. And I do not.”

Marcus is strong. Esca should pull himself away, but Marcus holds him close still, and Esca can feel Marcus growing hard as he continues to touch and kiss him.

“If we are not lovers, then we should be,” Marcus murmurs. “I want you more than I can say.”

Esca can only let out a small moan, and he shifts in Marcus embrace, his cock betraying his own desires. “You are not yourself, master. Please...” He begs he knows not what for.

“I would remember,” Marcus growled, “if I did not want this. You are everything to me, Esca.”

Esca still finds it hard to breathe normally. What is Marcus saying? He shakes his head. “It cannot be.” He is almost talking to himself.

Marcus surprises him by freezing suddenly, holding his upper arms and asking, “Do you not feel the same way? Are we not meant to be together?” He meets Esca's eyes, and Esca cannot lie.

“We are. But I did not know you felt this way. I never imagined you would admit it.”

Marcus looks amused, and confused at the same time. “It does seem foolish of me if I hid it.”

Esca might have things to say about that, but Marcus grabs him by the shoulders and spins him, pushing him down onto the bed. He has a wild gleam in his eye that Esca has only seen when Marcus has a sword in his hand.

Esca stares up at him. He wants Marcus to touch him, just this once. He cannot believe he can ever have this again.

“Take off your clothing, Esca Mac Cunoval, free Briton,” Marcus commands, and Esca obeys. He should not play this game, but he wants to see where it will lead.

Marcus takes off his own tunic, makes no comment about his lack of subligaculum. Esca has had enough chance to see Marcus' cock and more in the past six days, but never like it is now, never hard and leaking.

Marcus smiles, and lies down beside Esca quite carefully. Esca thinks he looks tired, and reaches out to touch his cheek.

“Marcus, you need to rest.”

Marcus smiles, and simply wraps his hand around Esca's half-hard cock. “This is what I need.”

Esca closes his eyes and lets Marcus have his way. Whether it is because he knows it is what Marcus wants, or whether he wants it himself, he does not know. When he is close, he opens his eyes, looks at Marcus, flushed and aroused, and he cries out softly, “Please.”

Marcus kisses him as they both come. Esca's cock pulses in Marcus' hand, and Marcus' cock spills onto Esca's stomach. Esca moans and kisses Marcus back as though his life depends on it.

When they part, Esca is both high and exhausted. He feels sad as he runs his hand over Marcus' chest. Marcus will remember who he is soon enough, and they will never lie together again.

“Did we have great adventures together, Esca?” Marcus asks quietly, curling into Esca's touch.

Esca nods, feeling melancholy. “We did, Marcus.”

Marcus smiles, and kisses Esca on the nose. “Will we have many more?”

None like this, Esca thinks. But he can only hope. “Perhaps, Marcus. When you are well.”

~


End file.
